


Brother

by Renegade_Reaper



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Oneshot, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 11:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13234332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renegade_Reaper/pseuds/Renegade_Reaper
Summary: How things might have gone if Matt had died in season four.





	Brother

It wasn’t like she had anyone else. Sure, she had her team, and they were very nice to her. Everyone viewed her as the little sister, the one everyone had to protect at all costs, like she was some porcelain doll kept in a glass case. Pidge was tired of it - tired of all of it. The babying, the pitying looks, the dragging her from her work in the middle of her breakthrough. Nobody understood, nobody listened.

Her brother and father had gone missing from the stupid Kerberos mission, Shiro had seen them! But whenever she asked, he would only give her a pitying smile, ruffle her hair, and tell her she didn’t need to worry about it. Often times, a carefully added suggestion for her to focus on the work Voltron was doing was tacked onto the ending of the sentence. To her, it seemed like nobody cared enough to help her find her family. It was enough to make her blood boil.

Pidge talked to them about it, or at least tried to. Hunk was the easiest to talk to, to spill her guts out as he baked them a snack or made dinner for the team. However, the most he could offer was a repeat of Shiro’s words, a cookie, and a soft smile. Some days, this was all she needed. But lately her anger seemed to be a monster inside of her, curdling her blood and making her spiteful toward everything and everyone.

Keith was a good opponent to fight on her worst days; they often rolled around and wrestled until she was out of breath or all her energy had been spent. Even so, as her rage grew and the fire fueled her every move, he began to take it easy on her. She would win every match. He thought it would do her some good, to win at one thing in her life, but all it did was make her angry that he didn’t see her as a real threat. The final time she fought him, she left a bruise on his ribcage that left him sore and tender every time he moved. It had earned her a stern lecture and extra work from their leader, but this only fueled the fire.

Lance was easy enough to talk to, but the moment she mentioned family, his ocean blue eyes went misty and she could tell he wasn’t really there anymore. Her heart went out to him, and her rambling usually stopped pretty quickly, but it was clear that Lance was too homesick to also handle Pidge’s problems. So they sat in silence together, Pidge’s hazel gaze watching Lance’s carefully for signs that she had really gone too far this time.

Those were the only people she trusted enough to talk to, and even then, Pidge couldn’t hardly talk to them. Her rage and homesickness and loss festered inside. She threw herself into the work to find her brother, hardly sleeping and surviving on whatever form of coffee that the Alteans could supply.

When she found the coordinates to the rebel base her brother had last been seen at, Pidge packed a bag and snuck out in the dead of night. Green had rumbled and whined in her head, trying to convince her to stay behind, to tell her team, but she silenced her ever-faithful lion with a harsh word. There was no way she was turning back, no way she would give up now. This was her battle to fight. Her family deserved better than what the Voltron team could give them.

It was a goose chase. The journey took days; filled with dead ends and wary rebel fleets. The littlest member of the Paladins seemed to be corrupted, consumed by her anger and fear. The help she gave was accepted, albeit with a cautious audience. In return, they gave her any information they had, fearful of the Green Paladin’s wrath. Pidge’s trek took her from rebel base to rebel base, until an older war general gave her the coordinates to an abandoned planet on the edge of the Solar Plexus.

At first, she was overjoyed. An abandoned planet meant that there would be more bases, better chances to find her family! There were endless resources to be gathered, help to be received, and aid to be given. Pidge could hardly contain herself, finally happy and gleeful for the first time since she had joined this cause. She was going to be reunited with her family, at long last.

The atmosphere of the planet she entered was dead. Her sensors didn’t pick up any life, and she firmly believed that they had tunnelled underground; it was the most brilliant plan. But as she flew lower and lower to the ground, she found, to her horror, that she was correct to a certain extent. The planet she had been directed to was a mass graveyard.

Hastily, she landed her lion, running out of the craft to look. There was no way her brother was here. He was alive. He had to be alive! Pidge scanned all of the graves, emotion clogging her throat, her heart pounding wildly. Matt was alive. Matt was alive. Wasn’t he?

On shaky legs, the Green Paladin managed to drag herself over to a grave, her horror growing as she read the words over and over again. _Matthew Holt_ , the oblong stone read, _your bravery will never be forgotten_. 

Pidge let out an inhuman noise, sinking to her knees. That was his birthday. That was his name. The device she used to track him was beeping. Destination found, the tracker read in green letters. This was her brother. Her brother was dead.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, choking on her own tears, clutching the arms of her Paladin armor. How long had she spent trying to find him? One year? Two? This was not the way he was supposed to die. He was supposed to grow old with her, win the war with her, fight alongside her, walk her down the aisle, be the cool uncle, _to remain her big brother_.

When she rose, finally, to return to her lion, she could hardly keep her stiff limbs upright. Green cooed soothingly to her, trying to comfort her, but she couldn’t think past the gravestone with her brother’s name, her brother’s body rotting away underneath. Her lion took the grieving girl back to the castle, doing it’s best to comfort her in the only way the mechanical being knew how.

Everyone was waiting for her when they landed in the castle.

“Pidge!” Keith, of all people, cried, racing over to the lion the moment it touched down. Pidge hardly had time to step out of the lion before her helmet was pulled off and she was swept into his arms.

The rest of them followed, berating, chiding, crying, calling her name. It wasn’t until they had all quieted that Shiro spoke up. He was the picture of cold anger, his gaze reading quite clearly, _you have betrayed this team with your disobedience_.

“Katie.” His voice spoke of hardly hidden rage, his posture stiff and rigid.

It took one look at him, her hazel gaze red rimmed, her pale cheeks streaked with the remnants of her misery, for her to fall apart. Her heartbroken sobbing echoed around the room, as everyone looked on for long moments, shocked into silence.

Keith was the first to do anything. He pulled her closer, shooting Shiro a sharp gaze and a sharper command to stand down. He held her tiny body against his, burying his face in her hair. Lance was next to step in, pushing Shiro away and acting as the elected older brother. There was no way their leader would get near her without an apology on his lips. Hunk hurried away to the kitchen, determined to make her a hot meal to chase away the demons rioting in her hair.

Somehow, Pidge ended up in her bed, with Lance at the foot, Keith beside her, and Hunk pacing in front of the door. Shiro was waiting, watching her, finally ready to apologize.

Belatedly, Pidge realized that this was her family now. Her blood brother was dead, sure. But she had four willing men to step in to help her heal, to try and fill that hole in her heart. For now, this was all she needed. She could rest easy in the presence of her shambled, thrown together, makeshift family.


End file.
